AnnouncementHello Everybody - I'M BACK!!!

  ...for good, I hope

  I walk out the tent with my feelings in turmoil, despite the influence of the Potion of Crity. And Baba Yaga noticed it – so she let me go early, despite us still having way, way more to discuss – but that has to wait; I just cannot bear any more until I sort out my issues.

  It is a truly bizarre experience: to feel like a spectator to one’s own feelings and thoughts. Like a… like a game character, I realize – and it makes me chuckle bitterly. I touch my arm where the scars left by my mistakes were; I can no longer deny I haven’t been treating this new life of mine as seriously as I should have. But the worst part? It’s not the first time! I told the same thing to myself right after the fight with the bear! That’s the meaning I’ve given to my scars: a remind how fragile I still am! How fragile life is! And I erased it so foolishly!

  I take a deep breath; I cannot stay angry – literally. Or rather – I am unable to get lost in the feeling; I had no idea that keeping a cool, rational mind while undergoing intense emotional turmoil, would be so… disturbing. And exhausting!

  I would compin to Volnika, but I can smell that the Elf has left; pretty wise on her part… although it was to be expected – she told me on the way she has some business to attend to... past the pce has been stuck in a dark corner of my mind, as I fear what I am going to see there: the field hospital. As – I should’ve gone there earlier. I nod to myself: I need to go, tend to the wounded and the sick. I might not have much medical knowledge, but I can at least bring them food and medicine, rub ointments on their injuries… or assist them with their daily needs – if they are unable to do so by themselves. I sigh, deeply; the knowledge that a rge part of my motivation to help others is ultimately self-serving leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the Witches are in charge of the patients – so I think it would be helpful to have one of them lead me to the field hospital. And I don’t need to look far.

  I gnce stealthily towards one of the tents, to avoid startling my ogler: the Beaverwoman that Baba Yaga shooed out before our talk. All this time I’ve been aware of her gaze – and her clear lust for me. I smirk and stretch to tease her – and it’s super effective! She squirms, her eyes completely fixated on my abs.

  “You like what you see, don’t you?” I chuckle as she squeaks in surprise; teasing her is surprisingly pleasurable. “Why don’t you come out?” I beckon her with a gesture – but she freezes, probably overwhelmed by my charm and her shame at being caught. I find it quite fttering… and it awakens something in me. I move towards the diminutive Witch instead, trying to sway my hips seductively – but it fails somehow; at least not critically, as my abs are what gather all the attention of the Beastkin. I find it kind of funny.

  In a moment I’m standing over the ogler, smming my hand onto the wall above her; I’m staring her down with a smile, that – I hope – comes off as seductive and confident. It’s a bit hard to tell – despite the woman being a Smoothkin, a Bobura to be exact – as her entire body exudes sexual excitement. Her face is flushed from the cheeks to nose to ears; her brown eyes are glossy, sparkling with desire; I can hear her heart pounding in her chest, as well as notice her erect nipples, poking through her clothes; and her smell… if not for the potion I would’ve already been pumping her full of my cum – as, I have different, more pressing business.

  I take a deep breath and steel my resolve – as well as my face. “I need you to help me with something; and if you do well” I lean in in even closer and whisper straight into her ear. “We can ‘py’ for a while, Bulra.”

  “You're clearly not satisfied… what’s wrong?” I’ve been sitting cross-legged on the ground, brooding, inside Bulra’s tent, which is decorated in a style I came to associate with witches – filled with herbs and what-nots. I look up to meet the eyes of my fidgeting Beaverkin host and shake my head. She yelps and – after a brief moment of hesitation – sits opposite of me. In silence.

  “It wasn’t what I expected” I finally break under her gaze; she tilts her head, prompting me to expin. “I… I was sure the injured would be from the Dragon attack, not… not from the monster stampede, that I caused” even the Potion of Crity cannot stop my guilt from affecting me. “And their reactions… their adoration and awe for my actions – the actions that caused them harm – that… that’s not what I needed to see!”

  “Oh?” The Smoothkin Witch chimes in. “There was more to this trip for you than just helping others?”

  “Yes” I admit, shamefully looking to the side; then I take a deep breath and look back into her eyes; luckily, I see curiosity – not judgement – in them. “I… I don’t think I take this life seriously enough. Again and again, I do stupid stuff and break promises I made to myself – even now I’m weaponless, as I left Nyx, my spear, with Miro, Po’s brother… and I told myself, after surviving the fight with that bear, the Tyrant under the Mountains, that I would never go anywhere without her! Not to mention other stupid actions, that Baba Yaga has already scolded me for!” I sigh deeply. “And now this… debacle” I point in the general direction of the field hospital we left not that long ago and take a deep breath again. “I thought that helping the injured would remind me of my own mortality… or of my own past life, where I was so physically weak I was bedridden since when I can remember… I hoped I would be humbled – not celebrated!”

  “Are you familiar with our faith – especially with Kolokon interpretation of it?” Bulra says after a moment of silence; I do have a very shallow knowledge – and I tell her so. “Hmmm… that expins quite a lot” it’s her turn to sigh; I notice that she got less fidgety and more focused than before. “To begin with, they are Kolokons – children of Kolo and Ko. You are also called the daughter of Aranna and Zoraya; and do you know what connects all four of those gods – what they are all associated with, especially in Kolokon culture?” She pauses for a bit – as, her question is rhetorical as she answers it herself. “The Hunt.”

  “The hunt?”

  “The Hunt” she nods, smugly. “All four of them are connected to hunting in one way or another – especially in their Kolokon versions.”

  “So there are differences in interpretations between different tribes?” I interject, beginning to slowly connecting the dots.

  “Tribes?” The Witch looks at me surprised and I tilt my head in confusion. “No, all the tribes view them… oooh!” Her eyes and mouth widen as she comes to realise something; then she shakes her head and sighs. “You know, Kora… there’s plenty of stuck up Tamarans and Zherymans who would… let’s say… take issue with how you phrased it” she says loudly. “…especially the former bastards” she murmurs barely audible words… in Tamaran!

  “Does that mean you can provide a better insight on this topic?” I say and my host flinches in a surprise. “You being a Tamaran choosing to live among Kolokons…”

  “How did you… you’ve heard it?!” She looks shocked, then ashamed and bashful… and her facial expressions make her look incredibly cute!

  “Is there a reason for you being here?” I ask her and smile warmly to ease her nerves. “We can speak in Tamaran if you wish…”

  “That’s not important” she said in Kolokon, her cheeks still beetroot red. “But if you need to know…”

  “You are an interesting person” I interrupt her. “Of course I want to know more about you!” I beam an honest smile at her. “I think that people like you or chief Yuras have more interesting perspectives on… what’s so funny?” I ask as she starts snickering, barely holding ughter in.

  “N-nothing” she says then takes a few deep breaths... before dropping a bombshell! “It’s just… he’s my grandfather, you know?”

  “What?!” Only the Potion of Crity stops me from shouting; then I lean over her and take a few deep whiffs. Indeed, under yers of heat arousal and herbal aroma typical to the Witches ys something clearly familiar. “It is true… Is this why you joined this tribe?”

  “Y-yes” Bulra manages to say after I step back, seeing what effect I have on her… and I need her focused if I want to get my answers! “M-my vilge was founded by my grandmother and a few other exiles from Lubinna, beyond the mountains to the North… they actually went through the Valley of The Wild Beasts like you – b-but were much less lucky with the Tyrant, losing over half their numbers to his fury; still, just surviving the encounter quite impressed Kolokons and they helped my Tamaran ancestors fund their vilge... down the river, between territories of the Nine Sisters Tribe, the Red Moon Tribe and the Darkwood Tribe. My grandma – Yoanna – was chosen as a founder and namesake of our settlement… at least partially because the Chieftains and Elders of all three tribes took a liking to her, giving her many children through the years” she shrugs. “It just happened that my mother was a daughter of Chieftain Yuras – so when I started showing talents and interest into being a Witch, it was pretty obvious where I would go; they might’ve been exiles, but are still Tamarans nonetheless… and I’ve known Kolokon as well as Tamaran since birth” she finishes her story grumpily; I can tell there is still more to it.

  “So what are the differences between Kolokons and Tamarans and how do they influence how those two groups view the Beastkin gods?” I use the opportunity to put our discussion back on the right track. “Your grandfather told me that Tamarans value their nd and family, while Kolokons – their cn and freedom; so why would they be so impressed by me?”

  “Oh… right” the Bobura seems somehow embarrassed, but her expression soon changes to one of focus. “Well, to begin with, my grandpa wasn’t wrong – and those values can be seen in the worship of the Gods. Look at Arana – or Aranna; she is, at the same time, the Goddess of the Wilderness, of the Forests, the Hills and the Mountains, the Swamps and the Night; Lady of the Hunt and Moon; Mistress of the Primal Rage and Survival – as well as the Great Mother; Goddess of Love, Lust and Family; Lady of the Night and Community" she raises a finger. "Different peoples just focus on different parts of her domains.”

  “I think I start getting it” I interject. “So Kolokons focus more on the wilderness and hunting aspect… while the motherly and family-oriented side is more appealing to Tamarans, right?”

  “Exactly!” Bulra seems proud of my line of thought. “And they line perfectly with our Ancestral Gods!” I tilt my head in silent question, soliciting a chuckle from her. “Kolokons are descended from Kolo the Sly – God of Hunting, Traps and Mountains – and his twin sister, Ko the Unerring – Goddess of Hunting, Archery and Forests.”

  “Ah!” I interrupt her once more. “Nugund mentioned that two people who bear those names will join us in the Dragon Hunt… and he said they are aptly named; also, Po’s siblings are named Miro and Mira – I assume after Miron, the god invoked by the Chieftain before the Gathering… is it a common practice to name children after deities?”

  “To a degree” the Witch chuckles. “In the case of twins of cn Yazas, it’s because they are Lynxkin, Softkin no less – and that’s how this pair of Divine Twins is nearly always depicted” she shrugs. “Those names are basically obligatory in this circumstance. As for the other names… it’s rarer, but happens; Kolokons tend to shorten the name of a God in that situation, while Tamarans tend to lengthen it… why, I even have a cousin named Mirenna now that I think about it…”

  “So if those two are associated with the hunt” I interrupt her. “…is Tamara the goddess of family? Or community?”

  “Close” the Beaverwoman nods. “She Who Birthed A Hundred” wha…?! How many?! “…is the Goddess of Motherhood, Childbirth and Childcare primarily… but also Family, obviously, however to a lesser extend – so you can see how she overps with Aranna and Tamaran values. Now, as for Zoraya…”

  “Wait!” I put my finger on her lips. “She had how many kids?”

  “A hundred” the Smoothkin says matter-of-factly. “And each of them funded one of the Hundred Oldest Cities” she smiles ironically. “Funnily enough, there are at least thrice as many pces ciming their foundation by one of them – but we can talk about it and the Tale of Four Siblings…”

  “Who?”

  “…Kolo the Sly, Ko the Unerring, Tamara the Wide-hipped and Bober the Builder, Ancestor Deities of the Beastkin of Orezemj… Haaa, I keep forgetting you are like a toddler in regards of the knowledge of our cultures – heard this or that, but not knowing what it all means” ouch; it stings but she’s correct. “But going back to Zorya – or Zoraya – she’s the Goddess of the Sky, the Sun, the Wind, the Clouds, the Rain and the Lightening; the Vanqusher of The Great Evil and the Avenger of Ostaran; the Protectress of Mortals and the Defender of the Kin; the Bane of Undying and the Huntress of Demons.”

  The mere mention of THE ENEMY nearly makes me growl – but I manage to hold it in. It’s a truly interesting experience, as I am able to notice precisely where my RAGE comes from… and to my shock it is not only the deep, deepest core of my soul – it radiates from and throughout my entire being, even my body.

  “…you are not listening” Bulra’s slightly offended voice brings my attention back to my surroundings… or rather back to our talk.

  “I am so sorry” I apologise with a slight bow. “It’s just… whenever DEMONS are mentioned, my mind and body are overcome with such RAGE, often causing my Aura to fre up… why are you looking at me that way?”

  “You… you really are her daughter!” The Beaverwoman whispers in awe; I tilt my head and furrow my brows, slightly annoyed. I have a hunch where it is going.

  “Eh… whose daughter you think I am?”

  “Zoraya’s, obviously” yeah, I thought so. “There are many stories of her righteous, fiery anger at the mere mention of the spawn of The Great Evil… it is said all her children share this trait and her warrior-monks can channel her fury in their swords… and you use spear like the Skymaiden, right? It might not be made from lightening – b-but it can channel it, right?! Or is it enchanted with wind… or with fires of the sun!” She gets more and more excited – and I feel the need to clear up this misunderstanding. I sigh heavily; at least my Creator’s scheme works. I look at Bulra; do I really want to deceive her?

  “Sit down and listen to what I say carefully” I finally say. “But please, keep all I am about to tell you to yourself; only a select few can know this.”

  HoraceH.Horney